


Home Safe

by BalefireFlatlands



Series: Sold For Parts [2]
Category: Mad Max (Video Game 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2019-09-18 13:08:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16995585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BalefireFlatlands/pseuds/BalefireFlatlands
Summary: Scab makes himself at home.





	Home Safe

“What do you mean nothing?”

“It don’t feel like anything! What does your arm feel like?”

“Well .. nothing I guess. But…”

“See? It’s like that.”

“But my arm’s not there, your legs are still attached. How can they feel like nothing? Do they hurt?”

There was a disgruntled snort, “No, because I can’t fucking feel them.”

Jeet rounded the corner, frowning, with arms folded, “The hell are you two doing?”

Instead of looking shamefaced Blas just grinned and handed Jeet a paper cup. “I got us ice cream because it’s hot.”

Stupefied Jeet just stared into his cup of ice cream, or more precisely a cup full of sprinkles with ice cream buried in there somewhere. Blas happily continued eating and Scab, propped up against the wall with some pillows, sucked a bite of ice cream off his spoon with a disturbingly sexual slurping sound.

He didn’t know what he was going to do with Scab. They’d been locking him in one of the empty storerooms overnight so he couldn’t damage anything and he’d have air conditioning; but that wasn’t much of a long term solution. Not to mention Blas had made it his personal mission to make sure he was comfortable and basically buried the biker in blankets and pillows until he was in danger of smothering. Scab was currently shirtless, blanket wrapped around his lower half with his feet sticking out, and Jeet assumed he was probably wearing nothing else.

Narrowing his eyes at them Jeet finally replied, “Don’t you have work to do?”

“I finished already so I could go get ice cream.”

Scab glanced between them and smirked, “I turned those two semi-autos into full automatics.”

Rounding on him, Jeet snarled, “You don’t work here.” And furthermore who was letting a strange angry ex-gang member handle guns anyway? Was everyone he employed a complete idiot? “I oughta just drop you off at the police station and be done with it.”

Scab shrugged, digging out some sprinkles from his empty cup. “You’re not gonna, cuz this place is big and illegal and I’ve seen it. You’d be better off just killing me.”

He didn’t sound like he cared one way or the other, but Blas looked up at Jeet worriedly. It hadn’t ever occurred to Jeet before, but Blas was probably very lonely. Jeet left him alone to work for the entire day, drove him back to his place where Blas basically lived, fucked him sometimes and then passed out because they both worked themselves to the bone. But Scab didn’t have anything else to do except hang out near Blas and keep him company. It was probably the closest thing to a friend Blas had ever had.

Jeet was abruptly incredibly jealous, an emotion he’d never had before.

Gritting his teeth he fought it down, because he knew rationally that it was stupid. Instead he just nodded to Blas, “Pack up, I’m ready to head out.”

Blas scurried away, disturbing the blanket wrapped around Scab and confirming Jeet’s assumption that he was indeed naked under there. Scab caught Jeet’s look and covered himself back up, grumbling, “You don’t have to look at me like that. His honor is safe. None of my parts work anymore.”

Jeet jerked as if stung, looking away as Scab awkwardly twisted around so he could lay against the wall. He hadn’t realized he was so obvious. “It’s not like that.”

“Whatever you say Boss.”

Scab was nestled in a bed of blankets but he certainly didn’t look comfortable. There were several circular wounds on his torso that were nearly healed, whoever had shot him had absolutely wanted him dead, one was through his chest and had to have missed his heart by millimeters. Jeet’s eyes flicked over them as he squatted down to examine Scab.

“How much medical care did you get? Do we need to take you back to the hospital?” He definitely looked like he was injured in ways other than just not being able to feel his legs.

Scab froze, and then his face contorted into a glare, the first time he’d actually looked menacing since his arrival, “You’d better fucking not,” growled out as he flinched backwards, tensing up as if he expected Jeet to attack him.

Confused, Jeet looked at him blankly, before it dawned on him that Scab was scared. He’d been in hospital clothes when they’d unboxed him, he’d obviously been tranquilized, it made sense that he’d be afraid of going back there. After all it wasn’t the gang members who’d shipped him off for parts; it had been the hospital.

“Alright. No doctors.” Much as Jeet thought he should go get checked out anyway. Scab looked relieved, relaxing slightly into his nest of pillows. “What do you want me to do with you? Do you want to go back where you lived?”

Scab looked away, glancing up at Blas who’d returned with a bag over his shoulder. He didn’t know what he wanted. He couldn’t go back, the people who’d shot him would just find him and finish the job, and he didn’t want to see any of them or the people in his gang, his supposed family, ever again. “Here’s fine. This is fine.”

“You can’t live in my storeroom Scab. There isn’t a shower here, the only fridge is on the second floor and we don’t have an elevator.” It also occurred to him suddenly that he had no idea how Scab had been going to the bathroom for the past few days.

Blas chimed in, “What about our couch?”

“I’m not bringing the couch to the warehouse.” But he had a feeling that wasn’t what Blas meant.

“Can’t he sleep on our couch at night and stay here during the day?”

Blas was giving him those puppy dog begging eyes and he sighed, glancing down at Scab who was still tense but looked up at him hopefully. Jeet pinched the bridge of his nose; he was done for. He had such trouble denying Blas anything when he had that pouting look.

“Fine! Fine.”

Jeet groaned as Blas and Scab grinned at each other.

—

Getting Scab from the storeroom to the car had been an ordeal in itself. Blas had tried to pick him up, but one handed he couldn’t get a decent grip on him. Especially when it became clear that the ex-gang member was a whole lot bigger than both of them. Scab helpfully crawled across the floor, but the blanket kept getting snagged off him and his feet had gotten scratched up leaving thin bloody trails. In the end Jeet had carried him princess style out to the car while Scab looked faintly embarrassed.

He’d had a whole host of insults about Jeet’s crappy old economy car. It was tiny, powder blue, held together with wire and duct tape, and Scab barely fit in the backseat. But there was silence from the biker once they actually started moving. Scab sprawled across the back seat with his legs in every direction, using his arms outstretched to keep from being thrown around. He seemed much happier now that he was out of the warehouse and could see the sky as the car whizzed along the highway.

Maneuvering him out of the car Jeet carried him inside and carefully set him down on the couch. It was old and well worn, with big plush cushions and Scab sank into it immediately. He squirmed around into a better position and closed his eyes, sighing happily. His back hurt so bad, he wasn’t healed at all and being in a box and then a hard concrete floor certainly hadn’t helped things. Relaxing against the pillows he made a surprised noise as Blas dropped a hundred pounds of blankets on him with a whumpf sound.

“It’s ninety degrees out Blas, you’re gonna give him heatstroke again.” But Jeet didn’t make a move to help as Scab struggled to emerge from the fluffy cocoon he was trapped in.

Blas just shrugged, “It’s cold at night.”

No it wasn’t. But Blas was skinny to the point of being emaciated, he was always cold at any temperature below about eighty degrees. He looked sickly, and he wasn’t in the best of health; his previous employer had been lax about safety standards and Blas had spent a good chunk of his life there breathing in dangerous chemicals. The chemist had lost his arm, but most of the other employees hadn’t been so lucky when the owner had decided to destroy all evidence of the business, and anyone who’d ever set eyes on it.

Finally freeing himself from the pile, Scab stretched, joints popping loudly as he settled into the couch contentedly. He was starting to feel nervous and twitchy, and it was going to be real obvious why in a few short days, but he’d worry about that then. Right now he had a roof over his head and a soft place to lay where he wasn’t in any danger whatsoever. For the first time in years he was safe. It was a sensation he hadn’t felt in so long he nearly didn’t recognize what it was.

Leaving some water bottles and granola bars on the table, Blas smiled at Scab before disappearing down the hallway. Scab craned his head around to watch him as Jeet followed. There was the sound of a single door closing. Uh-huh, not like that indeed. Scab smirked to himself as he pulled a blanket out of the nest Blas had dumped on him and and wrapped himself up. Maybe he’d actually be able to get a decent nights sleep.

—

Scab shifted around, waking up slowly as he blinked and snorted, shaking his head. For a moment he couldn’t remember where he was, thought he was back at the gang’s drughouse. But that couch was disgusting, covered in burns and various bodily fluids, and this one was soft and squishy, he almost didn’t want to move.

But he could smell coffee. And it smelled amazing.

Putting his hand on the back of the couch he dragged himself into a sitting position, looking over towards the kitchen. Jeet was at the table with a steaming mug reading something on a tablet, while Blas was slathering pieces of toast with peanut butter.

“Good morning!” Cheerfully Blas offered him a plate with a piece of toast on it before returning to the kitchen.

Scab stared at him and then down at the plate. Now he was even more confused. But not enough to stop him from eating, getting crumbs everywhere as he wolfed down his food. 

Jeet’s house was exactly as he expected, old, run down, and lacking in any modern conveniences. The couch Scab was laying on was the only piece of furniture in the room other than a tv sitting on a couple of wooden crates that had obviously come from the warehouse. It almost looked abandoned, like he only lived there because he needed a place to sleep and rarely ventured into the rest of the house.

Brushing the crumbs off his lap Scab slid off the couch. With nothing in the room there was plenty of space for him to roll around and get himself situated, sorting out his tangled lower half and making sure he wasn’t injuring anything important that he couldn’t feel. Tightly wrapping a blanket around his legs he pushed himself up on his forearms, crawling towards the big sliding glass door behind where Jeet was sitting.

Jeet set down what he was reading to watch as Scab squirmed across the floor, his first instinct to get up and help him. But that made him a little uncomfortable. He barely knew Scab, and with such a prickly personality that Jeet didn’t yet understand he didn’t want to accidentally offend him and set him off yelling again.

“Where the fuck are we?” Scab twisted onto his shoulder so he could lay comfortably and stare out the window. There was a huge swath of unmowed green grass that led up to a copse of trees surrounding a lake, tiny blue specks of water visible through the branches. A house with a view like that should have been gorgeous and full of windows instead of looking like some shack someone had decided could potentially be a house.

“Alabama.”

Blas dropped down next to him with a plate in his lap, “Pretty isn’t it?”

Scab nodded, used to seeing nothing but concrete and maybe a palm tree or two. The fact that someone just casually lived with this sort of a view daily was mind boggling.

From the table Jeet arched an eyebrow at the two of them, having no idea why they were so excited by a backyard of overgrown weeds and muddy water. He knew nothing about Scab and where he had lived previously, and he didn’t actually know where Blas was from either, it had never come up, except he sometimes mumbled while asleep in a language that was definitely not English. Maybe the lake was pretty, he guessed, it wasn’t stocked with fish or anything so it was kind of pointless to him. It had to be practical for Jeet to care about it.

“What time is it?”

Blas grinned. “About eleven in the morning. You slept for sixteen hours. Feel better?”

Scab stared at him, “I did?” He wasn’t sure he’d ever slept that long in his entire life. At least not when he hadn’t been passed out drunk or high the night before.

Blas nodded, eating a piece of toast that had to have the entire jar of peanut butter on it. “You gonna be okay? Jeet said you don’t want to go back to the hospital.”

There was a small but noticeable shudder from the biker on the floor, clearly even the mention of a hospital was enough to set him on edge. He gritted his teeth, “I’m fine.”

Standing behind them, Jeet nudged Scab with his foot, “You better be. Don’t die in the next hour while I’m gone. Gotta go take care of some stuff.” He wasn’t exactly happy about leaving Scab in his house with only Blas to watch him. Blas seemed to be enamored with the grungy gangster, he would be easy to talk into anything. But he was hoping that being partially immobilized would keep Scab out of trouble, he would’t be gone that long.

“I’m not gonna die.” Scab turned back to the window grumbling to himself, “Just gonna feel like it real soon.” He stretched, resting his arms under his head so he could watch the lake outside.

“Yeah. We’ll jaw about that later.” Jeet had a hunch about why Scab was so twitchy, but Blas, as usual, seemed completely oblivious, eyes darting between them. “Try not to destroy the house in the meantime.”

Scab smirked without looking up at him. Not very reassuring at all.

—

“Blas this isn’t gonna work!” Scab was actively trying to crawl out of the bathroom while Blas had a tight grip on his ankle, slowly but surely dragging him backwards.

“It will!” Blas backed up more, but Scab latched onto the doorframe and refused to budge. “You just gotta let me pick you up.”

Scab snarled, “I’m not a lost dog you found on the side of the road. I don’t need a fucking bath.”

“No, we found you in a box.” Blas had his pantlegs rolled up to his knees and he stepped backwards into the tub, tugging Scab closer to him. “And you smell awful.”

“Yeah well that smells like fucking strawberries. I’m not getting in there.” Scab lost his grip on the wood paneling and slid backwards, his free leg clanging into the underside of the toilet. Not that he could feel it.

Blas pouted, “What’s wrong with strawberries? I like strawberries.”

Scab sighed, twisting around to see the damage to his leg. “Stop dragging me around, you’re gonna break my leg.” And then he’d have to go to the hospital. While smelling like strawberries.

Dropping his leg, Blas went and knelt by him, dripping water and foamy bubble bath all over the floor. “I’m not trying to hurt you. If you’d stop squirming this’d be over.”

He growled, looking the picture of the lost dog he claimed to not be. It wasn’t even that he didn’t want to be clean, strawberry bubbles notwithstanding, it was that he was incredibly embarrassed about this situation. He was naked, Blas didn’t seem strong enough to pick him up, and he didn’t think he could get into the tub on his own. Just another thing to add to the long list of stuff he couldn’t do anymore.

“C'mon, you’ll be nice and clean when Jeet gets home and then he won’t be angry about you sleeping on the couch.”

While he didn’t think that Jeet cared one way or another what he smelled like, making sure he was happy with him being there seemed critical to Scab’s current predicament. Groaning in defeat he got up on his hands and approached the tub, screwing his face up at the layer of pink foam. Blas helpfully wrapped his arm around Scab’s feet, holding him up like a wheelbarrow so that he could climb into the tub with his hands. He very gently set him down once he was fully in the shower surround, standing in the tub so that he could flip Scab around onto his back and keep him from drowning.

As soon as he was sitting against the tile and not in danger of falling or injuring himself, Scab pushed off from the bottom of the tub, wrapping his arms around Blas’ middle and pulling him down into the suds with him.

Yelping in surprise Blas collapsed, water and bubbles splashing everywhere as he fell onto Scab’s lap, both arms flailing to try and keep his balance.

“If I have to smell like strawberries, you have to smell like strawberries. Fair’s fair.” He chuckled and released his grip on Blas who playfully tossed a handful of bubbles at him. Scab smiled softly and settled back, arms on the rim of the tub as he rested his head against the tile wall. If circumstances were different, he’d be doing a lot more than just dragging Blas into the tub fully clothed and getting him soaked.

As it was all he could do was look, couldn’t act on any of those desires coiling around in him. Blas was so thin, high cheekbones and arched nose almost making him look pretty. Someone he would have yelled homophobic insults at when he was younger before he realized that it was better to keep his options open and fuck anything that would agree to sleep with him. Sex was sex. And oh how he loved it.

Well.

He did.

Couldn’t really see a way to do that now. Below the waist he was undeniably broken, nothing worked and he was numb. Blas was kneeling in the water between his legs, lifting up each of them in turn so he could scrub Scab clean with a washcloth. But Scab froze as Blas crawled closer, practically straddling him so that he could continue cleaning him. Sure Blas was wearing all his clothes, but just the positioning… Scab couldn’t help but wrap an arm around his hip, holding him there. Blas stiffened, seeming to realize for the first time that he was sitting in Scab’s lap, but Scab released him immediately, reaching up with both hands to rub his eyes.

Right. Okay.

Don’t fuck the bosses plaything. He knew that, had that drilled into him the hard way numerous times. Blas wasn’t for him. He could look, he couldn’t touch. Even if Blas was making that incredibly difficult for him. Though he literally couldn’t fuck the bosses plaything, no matter how much he wanted to. But he’d definitely startled Blas who awkwardly started trying to rub him down with the washcloth again.

Scab mumbled an apology, keeping his hands well away from Blas, trying to seem less intimidating. It must have worked as Blas leaned forward, coating Scab in pink suds and then washing it off. Scab fidgeted, unused to being taken care of in any way, he knew that Blas wasn’t trying to be demeaning, but it felt strange to not do everything for himself.

Letting the water out of the tub, Blas helped him out of there, toweling him off as he lay on the floor of the bathroom, “See? Better.”

Unconvinced, Scab laid on the cold tile floor and let himself be dried off by a man who seemed to be doing everything in his power to get Scab to try to fuck him and ruin his chances of being able to sleep on the couch for a second night. To add insult to injury Blas stripped down and tossed his wet clothes in the tub, leaving the room to go get himself some clean ones.

Scab couldn’t help but stare, watching him leave and then smacking his head into the tile. Maybe he could give himself a concussion and then he wouldn’t be drowning in lust that he couldn’t do a fucking thing about. Propping himself up on his elbows he looked down at his own crotch. Well, one perk of this was that his lower half seemed to have no idea that his brain was horny like he was in heat so he wasn’t popping an embarrassing boner on the floor of the bathroom.

Fully clothed Blas returned, sliding a pair of ratty grey sweats onto Scab’s legs and pulling an old t-shirt over his head.

“Truck month, 1995.” Scab read off his shirt in disbelief. “This shirt is almost as old as I am.”

Blas shrugged. “Jeet doesn’t really buy clothes. And I don’t think you’ll fit into any of mine.”

Which would have been a whole different sort of nightmare considering that Blas was now wearing cargo shorts with knee high socks and a stripped v-neck shirt. Sighing Scab got up on his arms again, crawling out of the bathroom and away from the mess they’d made. The smell of strawberries followed him though, making him hungry.

Trying to get back onto the couch he managed to pull all the cushions off and nearly upend the whole couch on top of himself before Blas intervened and helped. Using Blas as a prop he pushed himself upright, all this laying down was causing his neck and shoulders to hurt. He’d just gotten situated, relaxing next to Blas who was watching some TV show about lions, when Jeet arrived.

He looked vaguely shocked that the house was still in one piece; he’d half expected the place to be on fire. But both Scab and Blas were just sitting on the couch; though something smelled like strawberries. He eyed them suspiciously, heading for the bedroom to change.

“What the fuck did you do to my bathroom?”

—

Scab lay on the floor of the storeroom, arms around himself as he trembled. This was far worse than he’d expected, humiliating and agonizing and he was absolutely miserable. He’d yelled at Blas, threatened him, he hadn’t meant to but he’d said it anyway. Couldn’t help himself. Groaning he rolled from side to side, clawing at his scalp.

He was so out of it he hadn’t even noticed that Jeet had come in, kneeling next to him.

“How are you doing?” Even though he could see the answer. He’d been watching Scab with the camera he had on the storeroom, and he seemed to be in utter agony.

“I… I can’t.” He propped himself up only to fall back down, crawling next to Jeet and collapsing against his leg. He was sweating profusely, pale and shivering. “Can’t do this. You gotta get me more Boss.”

“I’m not your dealer. I’m not getting you more Meth.” Jeet frowned reaching out to hesitantly touch his shoulder, actually able to feel his muscles spasming under his skin. “And I’m not your boss.”

“I’ll do anything you want!” His hand curled into Jeet’s side fingers digging right through Jeet’s shirt into his skin. Suddenly he growled, clawing at him. “I’ll fucking kill you if you don’t. I…” Rolling over he whimpered and wrapped his arms around his head practically moaning, “I didn’t mean that. I’m not… I can’t do this.”

It was taking everything in Jeet to remain impassive as Scab teetered between pathetic whimpering and aggressive threats. Sure he had a distant awareness that gangs kept people in check by denying them drugs, letting them go through withdrawal as punishment, but that was vastly different than actually watching it happen to someone.

This was day three of Scab going through violent mood swings as his body rebelled against the lack of methamphetamine in his system and Jeet had no idea how long it would last. Scab had actually punched him when he suggested this was probably something they needed a doctor’s advice on. He’d immediately apologized and cowered away, curling into a ball against the wall while he waited for Jeet to retaliate. Jeet was going to give it another day and if he didn’t show some improvement he was going to tie him up and take him to a hospital against his will no matter how much Scab protested.

Otherwise there was a very real possibility that he might die. He’d thrown up everything he’d eaten and drank for the past few days and he hadn’t slept. At least he wasn’t hallucinating anymore, yelling at things and people that weren’t there, reacting as if he was being attacked. Blas had been going into the storeroom to check on him every hour, clearly agitated by what was going on.

Jeet himself was incredibly uncomfortable with Scab muttering about how he’d do anything to get more. Some of his suggestions for things he could do were horrific, others involved sexual favors and Jeet didn’t want to think too hard about either of those things. But it was easy to see how Scab’s gang leaders had basically kept him enslaved.

And then tossed him aside when he wasn’t worthwhile anymore.

Jeet quickly pulled his hand away from where it was resting on Scab’s shoulder as he heard the door open behind him. Blas sank to the ground next to him, smiling softly as Scab crawled over to him and rested his head in his lap like a dog begging for forgiveness.

“I’ll take care of him.”

Jeet nodded and turned to leave, marveling at the circumstances that had gotten him into this mess in the first place. Going back to his office he watched Scab and Blas on the closed circuit camera, ready to intervene should Scab suddenly snap and attack Blas. It didn’t seem likely given how enthralled they seemed with each other, there wasn’t sound on the security cam but he could see them talking, Blas smiling every so often. Scab still looked like he’d rather be dead but at least he wasn’t writhing around in pain.

Dropping his head into his hands Jeet rubbed at his eyes. What was he going to do about them? He liked Blas. More than liked, he needed him, his business depended on the chemist being able to cook up medications to sell on the black market for big profits. But on a personal level … Well he hadn’t ever had to actually consider what he felt personally because he was always busy working. Working hard so he didn’t have to think about those things.

But watching Blas and Scab together had made something in Jeet’s chest hurt. Some weird broken feeling that he hated and couldn’t ignore no matter how much he tried. He was losing Blas because he didn’t devote the time necessary to pay attention to him. Taking him for granted. Treating him like some resource for the business instead of like a person. He even realized he was doing it he just didn’t know how to stop, wasn’t aware of any other way to act.

Blas deserved far better than Scab. But he deserved better than Jeet too.

Sighing, Jeet pushed his palms into his eyes until he saw bright colors behind his eyelids. He needed to take one problem at a time. See if Scab even made it through this, because he was positive that if he took him to a hospital he’d never see him again. He wasn’t just a biker, he was a criminal, he had to have warrants out for his arrest and Jeet would be in trouble too for harboring him across state lines.

But what would happen to a paraplegic ex-gang member in a jail that was probably full of members of his gang and their enemies? He’d be killed. Instantly. Bringing him to the hospital would be a death sentence for Scab. They’d be obligated to notify the police of someone going through meth withdrawal, and then he’d be arrested and shipped back off to where he had lived. Jeet didn’t know him well at all, but he was hesitant to do that to a guy who’s life the past few months had become a veritable shit storm. The other option though, was to leave him on the floor of his storeroom while he waited it out. And that seemed intensely cruel. He was basically torturing Scab right now and it made him feel like scum even if it wasn’t his fault.

He glanced back at the screen, Scab was curled up on his side dry heaving while Blas rubbed his back. One more day. And then Jeet would have a huge decision to make.

—

Jeet was slumped in the middle of the couch, feet up on a crate as a makeshift ottoman. He was utterly exhausted, ready to pass out from the ordeal of the past few days. His arm curled around Blas’ waist who was cuddled up against his side wrapped in a blanket. Murmuring something drowsy and happy he nuzzled into Jeet’s neck, wrapping the remains of his arm across his chest.

Outside it had started raining, the humidity out there was unbearable, but inside, where it was nice and cool, the sound was relaxing, causing Jeet to sink even further into the couch cushions. His other hand reached out for the warm body on his other side, resting against Scab’s shoulder.

They’d ended up having to take him to the hospital, enduring some of the most scathing insults and threats either of them had ever heard. For longer than they should have since Jeet decided on taking him to a facility in a different city. Just in case. The doctors had to sedate him and tie him to the bed to keep him from attacking everything and trying to escape, but he’d survived. Jeet had convinced them he was a family member and had simply signed him out and taken him home after a few days.

Simple as that.

Scab had seethed and grumbled the whole way back to the house, glad that he wasn’t in agonizing pain anymore, but furious about having been in a hospital. Still, it had gone better than expected. And he’d managed to escape with all the parts he’d gone in there with.

Now he was happily ensconced on the very plush couch, pleasantly surprised when Jeet plopped down next to him, apparently tired as all hell. Blas had cuddled up on one side of him and on the other side Scab, still somewhat sedated from the hospital, crawled close so he could put his head on Jeet’s thigh. He hadn’t been lying about the sexual favors he’d offered, Jeet was the boss, he could have anything he wanted, including Scab’s body. But right now Scab was content to use him as a pillow, drifting off into unconsciousness, making up for all the sleep he’d missed as he writhed around on the storeroom floor.

Jeet idly stroked Scab’s side as he slept, tightening his other arm around Blas who was already snoring gently. He looked at both of them in confusion before closing his eyes and leaning his head back. How had he gotten into this situation?

It wasn’t really bad. But it was … strange.

Comfortable though.

He could get used to this. He shouldn’t. But he could.

Scab shifted against him and mumbled in his sleep before starting awake. Jeet petted his shoulder reassuringly and Scab stared up at him for a second before shaking his head, “Sorry. Forgot where I was for a bit.”

“Is being here better than where you thought you were?”

Scab twisted onto his side, pressing his face into Jeet’s stomach and making a few snuffling noises. “Being here, being home, is better than anywhere else.” He wrapped his arms around Jeet, hugging him tightly as he closed his eyes to go back to sleep.

Jeet looked at him in surprise, eyes softening as Scab snuggled up to him. Yeah, this wasn’t bad at all.

He’d even go so far as to say, this was good. Right in this moment, everything was pretty good.


End file.
